“I’ll be here,” he told her.
The parlor door suddenly opened then, and Irene gasped with embarrassment at finding her parents in an embrace. Bea quickly pulled away from Kirk, touching her hair, totally flustered at being caught.
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Irene said, starting to turn away.
“It’s all right, Irene,” Kirk spoke up.
“You should always knock before barging into a room, Irene,” Bea told her, smoothing her dress, her cheeks hot. Elly and John made an appearance behind their sister, both of them staring at their flustered mother. Elly was glad that Bea seemed a little upset with Irene. In Elly’s mind, Irene was always so perfect and obedient. She enjoyed those rare moments when their mother got upset with her sister.
“Now, Bea, she’s just excited about her birthday,” Kirk cajoled his wife.
Yes, Elly thought. Stick up for her like you always do, Father.
“I—I just came to tell you Ramona has everything ready,” Irene told them awkwardly. “You told me to check, Mother.”
“Yes. I forgot.”
“What do you children think about going to Colorado?” Kirk asked, anxious to relieve the awkward moment.
Elly frowned. “Colorado? Where is that?”
“Father east, in the Rockies,” her father answered.
“I don’t want to go. I want to stay here,” Elly grumbled.
“Gold has been discovered there,” Kirk told his daughter. “It’s a great opportunity for us. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll come back to California.”
“I think it sounds exciting,” Irene spoke up, always glad to see her father happy. There had been so many times when she had sensed a distant longing and loneliness in him that she didn’t understand.
Elly resented Irene for never objecting to whatever their father wanted. “I don’t want to leave my friends,” she said aloud, scowling. “What about our new house, Mother?”
Bea glanced at Kirk. “We haven’t decided for certain yet,” she answered, looking back at Elly. “But if we do go, we can build just as grand a home there as we would have had here.”
Kirk looked at his son. “What do you think, John?”
The boy shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me where we live.”
Kirk studied his son, frustrated by the distance between them. John was a quiet young man who didn’t seem to care much about anything but building things out of pieces of wood. Kirk had hoped he and his son could be close, especially since he would never know his Indian son. But John had a withdrawn, rather cool personality, much like his mother’s.
Bea was already schooling their son in how to handle money, with the idea that one day John would take over the Kirkland fortune. “He has to be ready,” she would say. “As soon as he is old enough, I want him to go to college back East and study business and law. We’ve worked too hard for what we have to let our children squander and waste it and lose it all.”
Such talk seemed too heavy a burden for young John. Kirk could tell the boy didn’t care much about wealth. In that respect, he was more like Kirk, but the boy had Bea’s inability to express his emotions.
“I’ll need your help, John,” Kirk told the boy. “If we go, I plan to take a big train of supply wagons along. We might even have to build some special wagon beds. They’ll have to carry a good deal of weight. Maybe you could help with that.”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Yes, sir, I’d like that.”
Kirk smiled. “Good.” He studied all three children then, amazed that he had ended up a settled man with a family. Taking on so much responsibility had not come easy to him, but he had always done his best. He loved his children, and they brought him joy and pride, but his marriage would never be truly happy. His life was not at all what he had planned so many years ago, but he figured the closest he could come to the life he loved most was to get back to the Rockies. For him it would be like going home.
“You’ll all learn to love the area as much as I do,” he said aloud. “After the party tonight I’ll tell you some stories from the days when I lived and trapped in those mountains.”
Irene and John’s faces lit up with excitement. They loved to listen to their father’s stories of bears and Indians. Elly just frowned. She was tired of her father’s stupid old stories.
“Let’s all finish getting ready for Irene’s party,” Kirk said then, walking up and kissing each of his daughters’ cheeks. “I’m going upstairs to change.”
Irene watched him leave the room, glad to see her father so happy. John headed outside to tinker with some wood, already wondering what could be done to make a wagon bed stronger.
Bea walked up to Elly, who still stood pouting in the doorway. “Do we have to go, Mother?”
“I think we probably will, Elly. I don’t relish the trip, but I agree with your father that it’s worth a try. Besides, Kirk loves the Rockies. He deserves that much happiness. And don’t you go scowling all the way through Irene’s party.”
Elly wondered at her mother’s statement about her father deserving some happiness. Wasn’t he happy right here? “I’ll bet there’s nothing in Colorado but Indians and snow. We’ll live in an ugly little cabin like when we were little.”
“It won’t be like that at all, Elly. Now quit complaining and come upstairs with me. I want to redo your hair. It’s falling out of the combs.”
“It’s too thin and stringy.” She looked up at her mother. “You think I’m ugly, don’t you.”
“Elly! I think no such thing! You’re my pretty little Elly.”
“I’m not as pretty as Irene. You think she’s beautiful.”
Bea gave her a hug. “Irene is Irene. And she is three years older. She’s becoming a young lady. Such changes make a girl blossom. In a few years the same thing will happen to you. Now come upstairs with me.”
Mother and daughter climbed the stairs, but Bea could hardly concentrate on the birthday party or fixing Elly’s hair. Already her mind was spinning with the possibilities that could lie ahead for them in the place called Denver. She gave little thought to Elly’s feelings of inadequacy, brushing it off as childish. Nor was she concerned about John’s moodiness, his lack of interest in the family fortune. That would change with maturity. The important thing right now was to make sure her children had everything they wanted and needed, that they had the best life possible.
Maybe Kirk was right. Maybe Colorado was their chance to get in at the very beginning of something big. She straightened with pride as she envisioned arriving in a new mining town already rich, being envied by those who were still struggling to find their dream. She and Kirk had nearly worked themselves to death to build theirs, and she was ready to flaunt her wealth.
There would surely be more hardships, that she did not doubt. She did not relish a trip back over two mountain ranges and through the desert between them. Still, nothing could be as bad as those two winters in the Sierras, and those horrible months alone when she took in laundry. If she had survived that, she could survive anything.
“Colorado.” Elly was grumpy as she sat down at her dressing table. “Someday when I’m grown up I’m coming back to California.”
“If that’s what you want, then you will,” Bea told her, taking the combs from her hair.
Part Two
A great city is that which has the greatest men and women,
If it be a few ragged huts, it is still the greatest city in the whole world.
—WALT WHITMAN,
from “What Endures?”
Chapter Five
Bea was appalled at what she saw as the Kirkland wagons lumbered into Denver-Auraria. “My God, Kirk, it’s worse than I thought,” she moaned. “Why, there is nothing here but tents and log cabins—and Indians! Indians everywhere! You said they wouldn’t come near a place like this. And look how dirty they are!”
“Those are Arapaho. And they aren’t dirty like you think. They just live different, that’s all.”
An Indian man w
ho sat near a fire while his woman cooked for him looked up at Kirk and nodded. Kirk called a greeting to him in his own tongue, and the man smiled and answered. Some of the Indians began following the huge wagon train, curious to find out if these newcomers had anything to trade.
Kirk headed through Auraria and carefully guided his wagon through Cherry Creek onto the Denver side of the bank, while Irene, Elly, and John hung out the back of the wagon gawking at naked Indian children. Elly kept saying that they looked disgusting.
People began gathering to stare at the huge supply train as it moved along the east bank. With a sinking heart Bea studied the crude excuse for a town. She realized most of the women who came out of buildings to watch them were prostitutes. She had seen plenty of them in San Francisco, always wondering how a woman could sell her body to any man who came along. It was difficult enough for her to give herself to her own husband, who she suspected had visited such women back in San Francisco. She had long ago buried her hurt and jealousy at the thought, aware that Kirk was a man with needs she could not fulfill. She could overlook his indiscretions, as long as he didn’t flaunt them in front of her.
Hundreds of people began milling about, and Bea ordered the children to keep their heads inside the wagon. “Kirk, this is terrible. Every other building is a saloon!”
“What did you expect? This is a gold town, remember? You know what it’s like in places like this. And look at all those hungry, eager faces. We’ll make a fortune our first week here. When I send the wagons back, I’ll leave orders for the men to come back with more next spring. And soon as we’re settled, I’ll go up in the mountains and check out the claims, buy up anything that looks promising.”
She clung to his arm as though terrified. “Build our house away from all these Indians and whores. Look, to the southeast. There is a rise there. The land is higher than down here. Build our house up there.”
“Wherever you want.”
Crude log buildings lined the creek, with more buildings and tents scattered all the way into the foothills. Bea knew that the thousands who camped near the towns and in the mountains were only transients, people come to find gold and leave again. The stable population was probably no more than a few hundred, and it was hard to imagine this place would ever grow into a respectable town.
Horses, cows, mangy dogs, and pigs roamed everywhere, as did hundreds of small rodentlike prairie dogs. The dusty streets were littered with animal dung and trash, and it seemed that every other building was overrun by drunken men with painted women on their arms.
As they moved farther from Cherry Creek, Bea noticed a couple of supply stores, a drugstore, and a hardware store. The people who gathered looked somewhat more respectable, and a satisfied pride began to fill Bea’s soul when she noticed how some of them looked at her. They knew she was wealthy, and she saw the hungry longing in the eyes of some of the women, the same look she had had in her own eyes a few years ago. She nodded to them, looking forward to selling them goods from “her” store, and loaning their husbands money from “her” bank.
Sorry sight that Denver was, at least they were here. They had come into the territory from the north, using the South Pass, northeast of Salt Lake City, to get through the Rockies. It was the same pathway they had taken to go to California, and Bea had almost gotten sick when the wagons had to stop at Fort Bridger, where she and Kirk had stayed part of the winter on that first long journey ten years ago.
This trip had been at least a little more comfortable, with more men along for protection, fine, well-equipped wagons, and plenty of supplies. But the trip had brought back too many bitter memories. Now Bea was as determined as Kirk to make it worth all the hardship, for although she would miss California, she did not relish the thought of ever making such a journey again.
From Fort Bridger they had gone east and then south, following the eastern foothills of the Rockies all the way. Kirk’s excitement was so evident that Bea could have found it humorous, if not for her own doubts and dread. She was too preoccupied with worry over what lay ahead for them to appreciate the beauty of the land through which they had just traveled, to drink in the clear mountain air and enjoy the brilliant green of the foothills, the gray and purple granite of the rising peaks to the west. She had not come here because of the land or because of any youthful memories, as Kirk had. She had come here to build her fortune, and her power.
To her relief, at least one respectable-looking man wearing a neat suit approached them then, walking up to greet the lead wagon. He held out his hand to Kirk, who pulled the wagon to a halt.
“Welcome! Welcome to Denver,” the man said with a wide grin. “I’m William Byers, publisher of the Rocky Mountain News, come here recently from Omaha with my wife and two children.”
Kirk reached down and shook the man’s hand. “David Kirkland, from San Francisco. I grew up in these parts, then went to California to find gold.” He nodded toward the long supply train behind him. “We found it.”
Young Byers surveyed the wagons, quickly realizing David Kirkland had to be a rich man, and he had brought his family with him. These were the kind of people Denver needed. “Well, I guess you did find it,” he answered Kirk. “I’m happy to see a prosperous family coming to our town.” He saw the sour look on Bea’s face. “I know it doesn’t look like much right now, but we’re going to build Denver into a fine city. I hope you’re planning on staying to help do just that, Mr. Kirkland.”
“Most just call me Kirk.” He looked around, breathing deeply, drinking in the sight of the Rockies just to the west. Bea knew her husband could hardly wait to get on a horse and ride into those mountains.
“Yes, sir, I would very much like to help this place grow, Mr. Byers. I intend to stay here. This is the land I love.”
“I love it, too. The first thing we’re doing is trying to convince the settlers here to merge Denver and Auraria into one city. We’ve got to work together if we’re going to make things grow. You planning on opening a supply store with all these goods?”
“That and more,” Kirk answered. “I’d like to build some warehouses and bring in a lot more goods. I’ll be heading into the mountains to do a little prospecting of my own, maybe buy up some claims.” He turned to Bea and introduced her. “My wife handles all the bookwork. Are there any banks in town?”
“Not yet. But we’ll have banks and libraries and schools and all the other luxuries soon. I’m determined to make it happen.”
“Well, my wife just might set up your first bank,” Kirk told him. “What’s the truth on the gold around here, Mr. Byers?”
“Call me Bill.” Byers was a handsome young man, with a happy, energetic attitude.
Finding someone who shared Kirk’s dream and who seemed quite proper and intelligent made Bea rest a little easier. The children poked their heads from the back of the wagon again to stare at Indians and animals.
“The gold is up there all right,” Byers was saying. “We had quite a few gobacks, as we call them, for a while. I don’t have much use for people who give up right away. Traitors, in my opinion. But then I didn’t come out here for the gold. I came here to build a city.”
The man was obviously eager to talk about “his” city. He seemed to be a forward-thinking man, and Bea liked him immediately. “Most of the gold seems to be in the Pikes Peak area,” he continued. “The placer gold isn’t much to brag about, but we’ve got some hard rock miners up at Gregory Gulch now. They’ve started up a steam-powered stamp mill to pulverize the ore for chemical extraction. I suppose you know all about that kind of mining.”
“I do,” Kirk answered. “I own several milling plants back in California…plan to operate more here. I’m a developer, not just a prospector.”
“Wonderful! That’s what we need. With families like your own settling here, it will help attract more of the kind of people we want—good, solid families. You’ll want to meet General Larimer and his son. They’ve mapped out the town and are selling lots—really workin
g hard to bring some organization to the area.”
“Well, I’m sure my wife is relieved to know there are some dedicated, civilized people here,” Kirk told the eager Byers. He hated such small talk and didn’t like putting on airs for Byers. But more than anything he wanted to stay here, and he hoped such talk was giving Bea more incentive to try to make a go of it here in Denver.
“I firmly believe in development and promotion, Mrs. Kirkland,” Byers was telling Bea. “I am in the ideal position to help, through my newspaper. The News is distributed all over the Rockies, to all the mining camps, and to several places farther east. Denver won’t always be just a place for transient miners. You can see we have several businesses already, and a friend of mine, Luther Kountze, has opened an assay office. Our best carpenter is Henry Brown, a contractor from St. Louis. He’d be glad to help you get a house built as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you,” Bea answered. “We brought our own lumber along so we could get started right away. I want to get a roof over the children’s heads.” She turned and pointed. “I thought that site southeast of here, on the rise, would be a good location.”
“An excellent choice. General Larimer already has a home there. He’s from Pennsylvania, earned his title while in the Pennsylvania militia. He’s a professional promoter, come here on the invitation of the former governor of Kansas Territory, James Denver. Larimer will be happy to sell you some land.”
“If we’re going to stay in Denver, we will want to invest in a good deal of land for future development,” Bea told him, “not just a lot or two for a house.”
In the Shadow of the Mountains Page 8
